


night changes

by SEMellark



Category: Free!
Genre: Brief mentions of other characters - Freeform, Dialogue Heavy, Dreams, Fluff, Jealousy, M/M, brief rin/haru for like a second, couples talking through their feelings is my kink, slight angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-08
Updated: 2018-07-08
Packaged: 2019-06-07 01:11:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15207545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SEMellark/pseuds/SEMellark
Summary: Makoto has a disturbing dream, and Haru won't let him talk his way out of dealing with it.





	night changes

**Author's Note:**

> Last night, I had a dream that Dive to the Future started with an episode explaining that Rin and Haru were now a couple, and Makoto just quietly dealt with it because he'd rather die than get in the way of Haru's happiness.
> 
> So, yeah. 
> 
> SIDE NOTE I do not hate Rin, nor do I hate, begrudge, or blame anyone who ships him with Haru, because that would be dumb. I just personally can't physically bring myself to do it. 
> 
> (catch me still being a 1d stan in 20gayteen. it fit, okay)

Makoto’s lungs are on fire as he pulls himself from the pool, accepting the hand Rei offers him to steady himself. The water splashes loudly behind them as Nitori dives into the pool just a few seconds after Nagisa.

Makoto’s surprised that he managed to get them the lead at all. He hasn’t been swimming nearly as often as Momotarou surely has, so he’s undoubtedly out of shape, and the way his body feels certainly confirms that.

But even so, Makoto feels _good._ It’s been almost three years since he swam in any sort of relay and nearly five since his last competitive swim meet. He’d forgotten how good they can feel, how satisfying it is to form this cohesive unit with three of his favorite people. It’s the sort of high that could easily get addicting, and Makoto understands why Haru loves swimming so much, if this is how he feels whenever he’s in the water.

He tries to catch Haru’s eye, but his boyfriend’s attention is focused solely on the pool as Nagisa and Rei seamlessly perform their trade-off as they have dozens of times before. Makoto can’t help but smile, happy that Haru is so into this. He hardly gets to race for fun anymore, not with his training and travel schedule. Putting this race together at all was nothing short of a miracle since they’re all older and have their own lives now.

But if anything was going to force everyone to make time in their busy schedules, it was going to be a chance at an Iwatobi vs. Samezuka rematch.

They end up winning by the skin of their teeth. Haru and Rin are more evenly matched now than ever before, so it was anyone’s guess as to who would reach the starting block first. Haru reaches it a few milliseconds before Rin, and Makoto finds himself sandwiched between Nagisa and Rei as they hug him, shrieking in delight like they’re sixteen again and care about nothing but the race.

Haru takes off his cap and goggles and shakes out his hair, so eerily similar to everything Makoto remembers about these relays. Even if he hasn’t done this in a while, Makoto steps forward on instinct, ready to reach out and pull Haru from the pool, but when Makoto blinks next… Rin is there.

Makoto wants to ask how Rin got out of the water so fast. He wants to ask a lot of things but strangely feels like it isn’t his place. He just resolves to let Rin haul Haru up and move on, to not overreact and make this into a bigger deal than it actually is.

Makoto wants to brush it off. Really, he does. But then Rin leans down the slightest bit to press his lips to Haru’s and all logical thought just drains straight out of Makoto’s head.

There are no words to describe how Makoto feels as he takes in the scene before him. He can’t seem to get his body to move, limbs running cold for reasons entirely unrelated to the water still dripping off his body.

His eyes flit to Nagisa and Rei – surely he isn’t the only one who sees how wrong this is – but Rei is only turning his face away to give the pair privacy while Nagisa makes exaggerated kissing noises at them.

Sousuke, Makoto thinks, beginning to feel desperate, Sousuke will definitely put a stop to this since Makoto can’t seem to move. But Sousuke just looks bored, regarding Rin and Haru with the same detached wariness he had when they were in high school, not with the hot ire of a jealous boyfriend.

Makoto’s gut drops, pulse beating out of control as he struggles to make sense of the situation. Some part of him knows – _hopes prays –_ that he’s only dreaming. He had dreams like this when he was younger, although they were more like nightmares, with Makoto unable to move as Rin came back from Australia and swept Haru up faster than Makoto could’ve conceivably stopped him.

But Makoto feels more despair now than he ever did back then, because now he knows how it feels to have Haru to himself. He knows how it feels to sleep together in a bed they picked out and paid for themselves. Makoto knows to keep their Sunday nights free every week from five to six so Haru can call his parents, and he knows that despite being able to swim whenever he feels like it, Haru really doesn’t care for the life of an Olympic swimmer all that much.

And Makoto loves Rin like a brother, but he doesn’t think Rin could ever fully understand Haru’s complicated relationship with swimming. It took Makoto a long time to even begin to grasp it, to learn how Haru struggles with the agitation of being made to perform, even when he loves the water so much.

It doesn’t make sense. Things were perfect, so why is Makoto suddenly back here?

“You killed it, Haru,” Rin says, voice warbling with adrenaline and excitement, Makoto’s polar opposite in this moment. “You’re the only person I could ever enjoy losing to.”

And Haru just. Smiles. A soft, delicate thing that makes his eyes seem all the bluer, and the speed with which Makoto begins to cry is almost frightening, because Haru only ever looks at _him_ like that.

“Stop,” Makoto manages to croak out, lifting a hand to reach for Haru in a last-ditch effort to stop this –

There’s a brief moment of disconnect where Makoto feels as if he’s been separated into two bodies, but then he blinks and he’s on his back in bed, arm outstretched and reaching for the darkened ceiling above him.

Makoto lets his arm fall back down to the bed, landing with a soft thump that somehow manages to ring in Makoto’s ears. He’s not entirely shocked to find that he’s actually crying, hot tears slipping down his temples and pooling at his hairline.

And he hates this. He’s twenty-two years old and he _absolutely hates this –_

“Makoto?” Haru is awake. He’s never been a very deep sleeper, but even so, his voice is quiet and raspy, utterly exhausted after a long day of training; and doesn’t that just make Makoto feel like the worst human being alive.

“’m fine,” Makoto mumbles before Haru can say anything else. He doesn’t roll onto his side to meet his boyfriend’s eyes, because he knows what Haru will find. “Just had a dream.”

Haru is quiet for a few moments, but Makoto doesn’t pretend to hope that this will be the end of the conversation. The bed dips just underneath his left elbow as Haru props himself up on a forearm, staring down at Makoto through half-lidded eyes. “What about?” He asks, and Makoto could just laugh for hours over how well they know each other, even when they’re tired and literally surrounded by darkness.

“I don’t remember it very well,” Makoto says. He doesn’t know why he lies. It doesn’t sit well with him, leaves a sour taste in his mouth. He doesn’t lie to Haru, not ever. They tell each other everything, no matter how small.

Haru obviously isn’t buying it. He lets out a soft grunt as he repositions himself, sliding closer to Makoto underneath the sheets. Makoto tries not to flinch as the back of Haru’s fingers brush against his cheek, and although he mostly succeeds, he isn’t very happy about it.

There’s nothing Makoto loves more than burrowing into Haru’s arms after a tough day, but not when he feels like this, gross and disgusting and not at all himself.

“You’re sweating like crazy,” Haru says, sounding much more alert than before. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah, I – “ Makoto trails off. His eyes have mostly adjusted to the gloom by now. He can make out Haru’s face above him, sees his furrowed brow and downturned mouth, and Makoto can’t take it. He feels impossibly guilty, although he’s done nothing wrong and knows it for a fact. “Well, I just – “

Haru stays quiet and waits. He hasn’t withdrawn his hand, just strokes the damp fringes of Makoto’s bangs off his forehead so they aren’t in his eyes. Haru is so patient and kind with him, even when Makoto doesn’t think he deserves it – _especially_ when Makoto doesn’t think he deserves it.

“My dream was just… upsetting,” Makoto says at length, thankful that Haru doesn’t comment on how he just suddenly remembers what he’d been dreaming of. “It felt real. Too real.”

Haru hums low in his throat, fingers digging gently into Makoto’s scalp in the same way he does with their cats. “You don’t have to tell me,” he says, but just when Makoto is ready to close his eyes and forget that this even happened, he adds, “But I wish you would.”

“You’re not being fair,” Makoto murmurs, and Haru just shrugs one shoulder like he already knew that but doesn’t care. “You’re going to get upset, Haru.”

“Then I’ll be upset, Makoto.” Haru scoots even closer so their bodies are almost completely touching, hunching down to press his forehead to the spot just above Makoto’s left eye. “Tell me. Please.”

Makoto sighs, just wants to curl up in a ball and breathe until he feels like himself again, but that’s obviously not going to happen. “We were swimming a relay,” Makoto explains, breath leaving him in delicate exhales as he struggles to remember how he’d gotten from points A to B. “It was just us and the Samezuka team. We won, and I tried to pull you out like I usually did, but. Rin got in the way.”

Saying it out loud makes Makoto feel more like a crazy, jealous boyfriend than he already did. And he’s not used to feeling this way, because he knows Haru is just as committed to their relationship as he is. For Makoto, there’s only ever been Haru. And Makoto knows that for Haru, there’s only ever been him. But he didn’t know that when he was seventeen, and right now, Makoto very much feels like he’s seventeen again.

“He pulled you out and kissed you,” Makoto says in a rush, as if it isn’t obvious to the both of them that this is the real heart of the issue, “and no one thought it was weird aside from me.”

Haru doesn’t pull away from him. He doesn’t even seem to be breathing, although Makoto can feel brief puffs of air against his jaw. “And what did I do?” asks Haru, just when Makoto thinks the silence might get to be too much for him. “When Rin kissed me, how did I react?”

“You let him,” Makoto admits, hoping he doesn’t sound as heartbroken as he feels. He doesn’t want Haru to think he’s accusing him of anything, not because of some stupid dream. “And you looked at him like he was me.”

Haru’s next inhale is sharp and violent. It almost startles Makoto, how quickly Haru reacts to what he’s said, drawing away from Makoto like he’d physically slapped him. “We can talk about it tomorrow,” Makoto blurts out, half panicked. “It was just a stupid dream, we both know it didn’t mean anything.”

“No,” Haru says, voice hard. “We’re talking about it now.”

“Haru, it’s… two in the morning,” Makoto replies after glancing at the digital clock on his bedside table. “You have a workout in three hours.”

Haru sits up completely, and for a moment, Makoto thinks he’s going to get out of bed. But he only shuffles onto his knees before slinging a leg over Makoto’s body and sitting back on his thighs. Makoto can’t quite see the peculiarities of Haru’s expression, but he stares at Haru’s face enough to imagine how he looks right then, some awful balance between outraged and heartbroken.

“I wouldn’t,” Haru says fiercely. He’s mainly just a looming shadow in the dark, but Makoto feels pinned by the weight of a stare he can hardly see. “Never in a million years. Not if he and I were the only two people on the planet.”

“I _know,_ Haru,” Makoto insists. He feels almost sad on Rin’s behalf, although he knows Rin would say the exact same thing about Haru if Sousuke was the one having concerns. “I told you, it was stupid.”

“It isn’t,” Haru snaps, but he must feel badly about it, because when he speaks next, his voice is significantly softer. “It isn’t, Makoto. Your feelings aren’t stupid.”

“But I don’t feel like that!” Makoto was worried Haru would take this the wrong way. That’s why he didn’t want to talk about his dream at all, but he just can’t say no to Haru. “I don’t know why I had that dream, I haven’t worried about it since we were in high school.”

Haru seems to pull up short at that, and Makoto is only confused for a moment before he stills in dawning horror.

“Makoto,” Haru murmurs. He sounds lost, like he does when he tries to console Nagisa after he drinks too much and cries about the littlest things. “I didn’t know you’d ever worried about that at all.”

Somehow Makoto feels as if he’s committed the ultimate betrayal. The two of them don’t lie to each other, not after they spent so long dancing around their feelings and hurting one another through miscommunication and stubbornness. The reason they get on so well is because they’ve been together for so long, but even they aren’t mind readers.

They have to talk to each other to avoid the risk of bottling up their feelings in some misguided attempt to maintain the status quo. That’s just part of being adults in a healthy, functioning relationship.

But Makoto’s jealousy toward Rin is something he’s kept bottled up for a long time, something he’d never intended to tell Haru because of how ugly and disgusting it makes him feel.

To be honest, Makoto had thought that it wasn’t an issue anymore, not now when things are going so well for _everyone._ Apparently, he isn’t as in-tune with his own thoughts and emotions as he’d thought.

Makoto swallows past the lump forming in his throat. He hadn’t meant to expose his best kept – and only – secret, but he can talk about it. He _can._ “It was just hard, back then,” Makoto admits quietly. “I worried about a lot of things. Most of them were just in my head. It had nothing to do with you.”

He doesn’t feel like he’s lying, but Haru obviously disagrees, judging from the way he shakes his head so violently it jostles them on the bed. “It had everything to do with me,” he says. “I remember how I treated you back then. You had no reason to think that I loved you.”

“You’re wrong,” Makoto shoots back. “I had a lot of reasons to think that. Looking back now, it’s so obvious to me. But back then, I – I never noticed any of it. Or I just didn’t take your actions for what they were.”

This is something he believes whole-heartedly. He often feels stupid for never noticing how Haru felt about him before they moved to Tokyo. It’s blatant now, when he thinks about how Haru used to watch him, no matter what he was doing. Or how Haru hated almost all contact with human beings after Rin left but still let Makoto enter his house uninvited almost every day.

A lot of what Makoto used to pass off as being familial closeness had always been a part of their dynamic, so he guesses that it makes a bit of sense that it took him a while to notice. But even back then, Haru loved Nagisa and Rei like family, and he never really acted that way with either of them. And now Makoto can see that Rin was and is more like a brother to Haru, complete with the competitiveness and good-natured bickering that Makoto and Haru never experienced.

So, there was really never any reason for Makoto to be jealous or insecure, but that doesn’t change the fact that it happened. And now he has to deal with it.

Makoto startles as Haru slumps forward, almost dropping down onto Makoto’s chest and burying his face in the curve between Makoto’s neck and shoulder. “Did I… do something?” Haru asks, voice achingly soft and vulnerable, and Makoto’s heart breaks all over again. “To make you feel like this again?”

“No!” Makoto exclaims, finally regaining some semblance of control over his exhausted and tension riddled body to lift his arms and wrap them around Haru’s shoulders. “No, Haru, you haven’t done anything, I promise. I told you, I haven’t felt that way in years.”

Haru relaxes into his embrace just like Makoto hoped he would, nuzzling into the slightly damp fabric of Makoto’s t-shirt and sighing. “Can’t believe you were jealous of Rin,” Haru grumbles, and Makoto winces, because yeah, those weren’t his finest moments. “How come you never told me?”

“How could I?” Makoto asks as he rubs his boyfriend’s back. “I thought you were pining over him, and then by the time I realized you weren’t, we were practically already a couple.”

“We’ve always been a couple, Makoto.”

“I was _embarrassed_ ,” Makoto continues, pointedly ignoring Haru's comment, because they’ve already had _that_ discussion many times in the past and have agreed to disagree. “I didn’t see the point in bringing it up, and I just. I hated how that jealousy made me feel about myself. I didn’t want you to see me that way.”

“What way?”

“I don’t know, just… I didn’t feel like myself in those moments. I felt ugly.”

Haru shakes his head against Makoto’s collarbone before pushing himself up with his forearms against Makoto’s chest. Makoto slides his hand down to Haru’s waist and squeezes, nervous for whatever’s going to come out of his boyfriend’s mouth next.

“I’m jealous of Kisumi.”

Makoto blinks up at Haru. For a moment, he thinks that this is just a joke, but he dismisses the thought quickly. This is Haru, and Haru rarely jokes. “What?”

“I’m jealous of him,” Haru repeats. “I have been since junior high.”

“Since junior – Haru! I didn’t know that!”

“I know,” Haru says with a sigh, and maybe Makoto would be offended if he didn’t sound so fond. “Trust me, I know.”

“But why?”

“I hate him.”

“No, you don’t, Haru.”

“I hate him,” Haru insists. “I hate how he talks to you. And he touches you all the time, even when I’m around.”

Makoto has to laugh at that one. “He’s like that with everyone, including you.”

“And he can be like that with whoever he wants,” Haru says firmly, “so long as it isn’t you. Or me. But preferably you.”

The laughter just keeps on coming, so strong they both shake with it. Haru is so obviously serious about this, staring straight into Makoto’s eyes like this is something of grave importance. It’s just too ridiculous to _not_ laugh. “How did we even get here, Haru?”

“Because you’re being unreasonable. And unfair to yourself,” Haru says once Makoto’s quiet laughter has subsided. “If you think being jealous makes you ugly, then what does that make me? Because you may not be jealous of Rin anymore, but I’m still jealous of Kisumi.”

The last part is more alarming to Makoto than anything else that’s happened tonight. “Still? You’re _still_ jealous of Kisumi?”

Haru shrugs. “I probably always will be.”

“But _why_? You have to know I’ve never even thought about him that way.”

“Yeah, I know. But it doesn’t make me feel any better.” Makoto realizes that this must be hard for Haru to admit. From the sound of it, he’s been harboring this jealousy toward Kisumi for even longer than Makoto was ever jealous of Rin. “He’s more obvious about his affection toward people. If you were with him, he’d always show it, no matter where you were.”

“Don’t say that,” Makoto begs quietly. “Don’t even think those things.”

“I try not to,” Haru admits. “But it’s difficult, sometimes. And I don’t really hate Kisumi all that much, I just wish I could be like him, sometimes.”

Makoto tries to imagine Haru talking even nearly as much as Kisumi does, or laughing as loudly, smiling as much, throwing himself at as many people, and… yeah, Makoto never really wants to contemplate that version of Haru again. Haru is special because his laughter is rare and his smile is precious, his friendship worth more weight because he doesn’t give it as freely.

And that isn’t to say that Kisumi isn’t as good a person because he has all those things, but if it really came down to it, Makoto would choose Haru and his reserved, careful affection every time.

“I didn’t tell you to make you feel guilty,” Haru says, dragging Makoto out of his own thoughts, “and I don’t want you to stop being friends with Kisumi or anything. I just want you to realize that we’re the same. You don’t think any less of me because of how I feel about Kisumi, do you?”

“Never,” Makoto swears. He doesn’t even have to think about it.

Haru nods slowly, mouth quirked in a small half smile that Makoto wants to bite. “And I don’t see you any differently now that I know how you used to feel about Rin. You don’t have to worry, Makoto. Not about us, not about me, and not about yourself.”

Makoto’s been telling himself the same thing for years now, but hearing it in the low, smooth cadence of Haru’s voice makes it seem doable. Like the unkind thoughts in Makoto’s head are something he can actually manage and argue against.

Everything is easier with Haru. Makoto doesn’t know how he could’ve forgotten that, even if he was asleep.

“I love you,” Makoto sighs, tugging Haru back down to lie against his chest. “You’re easily the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

“Love you, too. Even if you get dramatic when you're tired,” Haru says. “I can’t believe you were jealous of _Rin_.”

“I know.”

“He crumples his toilet paper when he wipes, you know.”

“Why do you even know that?” Makoto laughs, nuzzling his head against Haru’s and tightening his grip on him as he rolls them onto their sides. “Don’t answer that. I don’t wanna know what you guys got up to in Rio.”

“We sat in our hotel when we weren’t competing and complained about how much we missed our boyfriends,” Haru says pointedly, trying and failing to squirm away when Makoto presses a too wet kiss to his cheek. “And discussed our bathroom habits, I guess. I don’t know. We were drunk a lot.”

They mostly settle down after that, although Makoto doesn’t release his hold on Haru. His heart feels too big for his chest in an entirely different way now, one that Makoto actually kind of enjoys. He loves being like this with Haru, just the two of them in their bed, neither of them putting on a show for anyone else. Makoto has to share his boyfriend with the whole world these days, but that makes these moments between them – good or bad – all the more precious to him.

“Jealous of Rin,” Haru says again, like a scratched record. Makoto gets the sense that he’s never going to live this one down. “Can’t wait to tell Nagisa.”

“He probably already knows,” Makoto murmurs into Haru’s hair. “He’s the most perceptive person we know.”

“You’re probably right.”

They fall asleep just like that, Makoto clinging to Haru like he's a dakimakura and Haru drooling into the fabric of Makoto’s shirt. It feels like no time has passed when Haru’s alarm goes off a few hours later, startling the both of them into consciousness with little regard to how emotionally drained they feel.

And when Haru turns the alarm off and dives right back into Makoto’s arms instead of heading for the shower _like he should be doing,_  Makoto just lets him.

Because Haru is his. And today, Makoto doesn’t really feel like sharing.

**Author's Note:**

> Jealous!Makoto is alive and real in the year 20gayteen and must be protected, appreciated, and kindly corrected.
> 
> Jealous!Haru is too but whatever, we been knew, there's episodes and movies dedicated to him


End file.
